like to paint it. I could paint it perfectly right this very moment. Maybe I’ll
paint it when I get home. The idea of home reminds me of Dan’s hand on
Emma’s thigh.
“Please, just a tiny bit more?” I ask when we are out of the car and Keith
pulls out the stash. I need to banish the idea of home.
We finish the little bit of coke that’s left by snorting quick bumps off
Ben’s key. Then it’s the long walk across the lot to the concert venue, so we
have to stop a couple of times for sips from a water bottle that Keith has
filled with vodka and Kool-Aid, and finally we arrive.
“We’re here!” I shout, throwing my arms in the air. I hug Ben, but it’s
totally cool because it’s just about the excitement of making it to the concert
and the fact that I could get away from my mother and Emma had a
sleepover. “Everything worked out exactly right.”
Ben laughs, hugs me back, lets me go. We find our seats, but who cares
about seats when you can dance dance dance? Every song is better than the
one before. And when I start to think about Emma again, I just dance harder.
I’m sweating, but it doesn’t matter. Ben hands me a water bottle that he
produces like magic. Ben is magic. I slug it back, push my damp hair out of
my face, and keep dancing. What will happen when I’m gone, and Dan is
living in the house? I close my eyes and dance. I can’t wait to leave for
college. I need to leave for college. I dance.
The music fills the whole arena, reaching us all the way up in our
section, spinning us around before it dips and sways in a new direction. What
will happen to Emma? I lean toward Ben, singing the lyrics, both of us right
there in that moment of that song and it’s as if we’ll never stop, we’ll never
change, we’ll freeze in a perfect moment of a perfect song.
Ashton moves behind me, his hands on my hips. He moves with me.
Ben looks at us, unsure of where he fits in, and I remember that I’m not that
girl anymore. I’m a better me. I push Ashton away. I’m a girl on my own,
flying through the bright night carried by the music. My arms are wings, and
if I dance hard enough, fast enough, maybe I’ll take off toward the black roof
and watch everyone from the rafters, floating on the invisible current of
music. I laugh, and Ben asks what’s funny, but I can’t make the words come
out right. I can’t make it clear for him, so I keep dancing. Then the concert is
over, but it’s not over because there’s an encore and I think maybe they’ll
play forever. Maybe the music will never stop.